A little Sparrow
by spotted.paw
Summary: Warning, not humorous. I tried to come up with something that was true to a pirate's real life, and so it became another one of my morbid ones. Sorry for that. Apart from that, it features Jack's brother.


*Chapter 1* No need to be romantic about that  
  
„Don't worry, lad. Everything will be alright,"Jack whispers quickly. I nod, even though I know we're in too deep to get out unharmed. The men of Captain Corr have grabbed hold of our arms. One of them pulls Jack closer to him and then spits into his face. He smacks him with the rear end of his cutlass. Jack lets out a sigh, then he's out. They bind his hands. Another man takes hold of my arms and pulls my wrists together, to tie them behind my back. Laying his hand onto my shoulder and pushing hard, he forces me down to my knees and puts a blade to my jaw line, scratching the few remnants of my beard that I have shaved only some days ago.  
  
I feel a streak of blood running down towards my collar. "Captain!" the man screams, "Are we supposed to keep this one, too?" He sniffs. "Or can I slit his throat right now?" Corr comes closer, takes a knee by my side. He sinks his right hand into my hair and yanks my head back. I try not to moan, just grit my teeth. A smile traces its way across Corr's face. "No," he says softly, "No, we'll need him, too." He puts his other hand to my chin and turns my head towards him. He smiles at me brightly and then strokes my cheek, bowing my head backwards more fiercely by pulling my hair. His face comes closer to mine, and I can smell his breath. It tastes foul, and of smoke, and rum. "Don't you know who this is?" Silence within the crowd. Was I in a more pleasant situation, I'd feel annoyed.  
  
Corr suddenly turns me around, pulling me close to himself. Almost sitting on his lap, I now face his crew. "Tell the guys who you are!" I try to find my balance, but my knees are weak. "I ... I'm Harold Duke." Still silence. "Oh, come on!" Corr is getting impatient, "Tell the guys who you are known as, so that they'll understand!" As I remain silent, he yanks my head back so hard that I hear the bones cracking. My head rests in his arms and I face him, looking upward. "I'm known as Hal Sparrow." A murmur arouses amidst the crowd. "Yes!" Corr exclaims, "This young lad you see here is the brother of our cherished Mr. Jack Sparrow!" "CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow!" comes a whisper from my brother, barely conscious. A crewman kicks his face with his boot. "So you see, mates, we might find this little filth of use during our negotiations." He then pulls me onto my feet and tosses me into the arms of his men. One of the grabs me by the elbow and smacks me full frontal into the wall nearby. I feel blood in my mouth and spurting out of my nose, them I'm out.  
  
When I awake, I feel my arms suspended. There are chains around my wrists. I feel them, before I open my eyes. I look around. First I see Jack, fast asleep to my right side. I'm on my knees in the middle of a storage room in the belly of a ship. I can tell that by the movement of the floor. And by the barrels of sauerkraut next to us. The chains on my arms are linked to hooks in the ceiling. I see some turning wheels and begin to realize that they belong to some sort of expander. I look over to Jack. He's chained to hooks in the wall. It doesn't demand a lot of imagination that they plan to get the way to the Black Pearl out of him. And they'll use me to loosen his tongue.  
  
"Jack!" I whisper. No response. "Jack!" I try once again, a little more loudly. He doesn't move. I reach out with my foot, and if I hang my full weight into the chains I can reach his boot with my bare foot. I kick it. "Jack!" Now he stirs. "Wake up!" He actually opens his eyes. "Darn!" He sounds coarse. Blood is drying on his lips and cheeks. "Where to hell are we?" I get back on my knees to give my arms a little rest. "Corr's ship. He ambushed us at the port, remember?" Jack groans and rubs his neck. "Unfortunately. Aye." He looks around, then he sees me, arms raised, forming a "Y", hanging on chains from the ceiling. It takes a few moments until his scattered thoughts form the picture in his head. "Oh no." he whispers. I close my eyes. "They'll do that, no question. But you won't tell them! No matter what they'll do to me! If you tell them where to find the Pearl, they'll kill everyone aboard and sink her."  
  
Jack laughs. "No way they can match the Pearl." I sigh. "Jack, they have us outnumbered by far. It's three ships against one! Besides, he's just robbed the Pearl of her Captain." Jack thinks for a while. "You're right." I nod. "I know I am. So you just don't tell them. Don't tell them, no matter what. They can kill me, kill you, but they won't have the Pearl." Jack nods. "Aye." "Jack." "Aye?" "Look into my eyes and swear you won't say nothing, no matter what they'll do to me." He rolls his eyes and sighs. "Jack! Swear it!" He looks at me. I hear rumoring outside, people approaching the door. "Swear it!" I plead. Someone knocks open the door, which is to my back. "Swear it!" I whisper. "Aye, aye, I swear!" Jack whispers back quickly.  
  
"Well, Gentlemen, seems you're already wide awake and enjoying yourselves." Corr paces around us. "As you probably have figured, I want to know how to find the Black Pearl, and thereby, the gold that you have stolen from me." Jack smiles. "But you have stolen it, too. Why just don't you steal yourself another load?" "Well, Sparrow, I will certainly do that, too. Unfortunately this is not the first time you tricked one of my crews. That makes me angry. Really angry. But I'll see to it that it will be the last time." "I will not tell you a word." Jack smiles. "Oh, so I thought. I'm not counting on loosening your tongue by, say, cutting off your ears, or your nose, or one of your fingers. I know that would hardly work."  
  
Corr smiles. "But fortunately we have another guest here." He comes to me and grabs my hair once again. "As I understand this fine young man is your little brother. And I bet you will be most likely to speak if I cut his nose off." Jack gulps. I feel my stomach grow cold. Corr laughs. "Oh, don't be afraid, my little one." He pats my cheek and lets go of my hair. "I won't cut it off straight away. You have such a pretty face. And I will greatly rejoice in seeing your pretty face jolting in agony first." He turns and nods. A man approaches me and tears my shirt open. "Get it off him." The guy cuts the sleeves, and there I am, on my knees, my bare upper body exposed. Corr comes closer and touches the tattoos on my breast, then the ones on my shoulders, on my arms. "You got so many fancy tattoos. What a shame we'll ruin them all. You have them on your back, too, don't you?" I look away, and he smacks my face. "Answer when I ask you!" I spit blood. Look up and face his glance. "Yes. I do." I answer. "Very bad for you." He pats my head. "Say goodbye to them." He laughs.  
  
Then he advises his men: "Get him up." And they begin to turn the wheels. My arms begin to stretch. My body moves up slowly. Until I stand straight, arms expanded as far as they will go. "His feet!" Corr orders, and they come to chain my feet. Then the stretching goes on. The joints in my shoulders crack. The suspension lifts me off my feet. I feel my arms can take no more expansion or they will simply tear apart. A loud moan. I realize I gave it off. They stop. "Well. That hurt, didn't it?" Corr smiles. "You'll be pleased to know that this is only the beginning." He turns to Jack. "He can take far more. It's up to you to stop it." Jack looks away. Corr nods to his crewmen. They continue to pull.  
  
This time I feel the scream emerging fairly well. My bones, and muscles, and sinews seem to burn. I hang exposed; now forming a perfect "X", with only my head bouncing back and forth, for it is the only thing I can move. I can't breathe. I can't breathe; my lungs are stretched so flat they can't move. They stop again and I adjust to the pain. Funny, how glad I am they stopped now, exposing me to this agony, since I couldn't imagine to bear more pain just a few moments ago. "That's enough." I raise my head. That was it? But my lifting spirits sink all too soon. Another man comes in. He walks around me in circles. In his hand he has a whip with several beads. A cat o'nine tails. I see there are fishing hooks attached to the lashes. I have been beaten before. But not with fishing hooks.  
  
He stands behind me, then comes closer to me, lays his hand onto the skin of my back. "This will not stay quite as smooth." he grins as he looks into my face from over my shoulder. I feel the lashes of the cat on my skin. They are thick. "No.", I hear Jack whisper. "It's alright, Jack." I pant. The man disappears behind me. Corr stands right in front of me, between Jack and me. "Well, then we just give it a go." He nods, and I hear a hissing sound. Then I feel a hot pain across my shoulders. The lash is burning into my flesh. My head yanks back. I scream. I feel one the fishing hook that sticks deep in my right shoulder blade. Just as my head rolls forward again, the man yanks the hook loose. Then he brings the whip across my shoulders once again. And again. The lashes wrap around my chest. Around my arms, my armpits. My elbows. My wrists.  
  
After a while I lose count of the strokes. And I lose the strength to scream. I crave to pass out, or leave my body, but the pain holds me close to it. The man begins to beat in a quickening pace and I'm sure my back must be open and bleeding, not only from the hooks but also from the strokes. But when he eventually stops and gives me the chance to breathe, I feel it is dry, save for the frayed holes the fishing hooks have left. I try to relax as much as the chains will allow, try to breathe in. The world begins to feel dizzy and blurred. I look at Jack, whose face reflects my pain and thereby looks even more tortured than my own must look.  
  
"Mister Sparrow, is there something you would like to tell me?" Corr addresses Jack. I shake my head, only to provoke the man to hit me again. He brings a stroke across my back that literally knocks the wind out of me. In a controversial flashback that seems curiously out of place I remember I felt like this when I dropped to the ground from a huge tree as a kid. I gasp, but hardly any air fits into my body. I sweat. The streaks running down my back increase the burning of the welts. "Sir, his back can't take much more I'd say." the flogger informs. "Well, take care of his front, then." Corr orders.  
  
The man with the whip walks around and brings the beads across my chest. This time I bring forth another scream. My head flips backward in agony. Again. And again. The muscles of my belly contort as he sends the whip flying across my ribs. My flesh quivers and twitches uncontrollably, as far as the chains will allow. Which is not much. "His face." Corr says. I groan. The man takes aim, and the beads swirl to enclose my throat. Taking my breath. I gasp. I feel one fishing hooks in my jawline, and one that is in directly behind my ear. I can't breathe. Black dots start to dance in front of my eyes. The man comes closer and loosens the grip a little. He then pulls at the beads. It feels as if he tears away all the flesh of my throat. "Sorry boy, next time my aim will be better." He sends the whip flying again and this time it goes around my head, finding my lips and cheekbones. Miss my eyes, I plead silently. One hook enters my lower lip, and another I feel right above my ear. When he pulls them out he's sure going to rip my face to shreds.  
  
He yanks. I scream. This is the second I pass out.  
  
Only to awake a few seconds later. Water drips from my face. Blood in my mouth and throat. Corr holds my head to face Jack. "Mister Sparrow, I ask you once again. Where is the Black Pearl?" I open my eyes and seek Jack's gaze. He finds mine. I shake my head, more a twitch than a shake actually, and form a soundless "no" with my bleeding lips. Jack's eyes have more pain in them than I can bear. He is so sorry for me, more sorry even than I am hurt. He then looks away and faces Corr. "It's CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow. And you are not getting a word out of me." Corr turns my head towards him and shrugs. "Sorry, lad." And then the man takes up the beating again.  
  
I don't know how long this goes on. I lose my sense of time completely. I lose my voice, too. All my strength is gone and I don't even find the power to scream. My head hangs from my shoulders, limp and weak, only to yank back and forth in reflex when the cat comes across my back or chest. It goes on so long that the welts on my skin burst open, too, in addition to the hook holes. There's a lot of blood on me. The flogger sends the beads flying in crosses. I pass out several times, only to be woken by them.  
  
But after a while my body just gives in. I feel if I take one more blow, I'll die, as simple. The flogger is an experienced man, for I hear him say: "Sir, he's almost finished." "Alright. Then bring in some water." I hear men coming in, seemingly carrying something. Must be a barrel, because suddenly a huge wave of ice-cold seawater comes crashing in on me. The cold is a shock, and the salt burns like folly. Corr steps closer and starts to rub his hand across my shoulders. I can't scream anymore, but I cry silently. Exhaustion, shame and pain mix and pour out of my eyes. When I look at the Captain, I see him smiling. "Loosen him." They loosen the chains and I try to set my feet onto the ground. But there is no feeling in them anymore. No strength left. I fall to my knees and hands, but all my muscles give in. So I am lying in the dirt, on my face. My left eye is swollen, having been hit by the whip. "Hold him." I hear Corr say, and I feel the hands of his men grabbing my arms, even though I am too weak to move anyway.  
  
"Jack Sparrow, this is your last chance. Well, or his. As you put it." Corr laughs. "Do you really want me to ruin that decent face of his? Or let's say, ruin it even more than I already did?" And I feel the cool steel of a sharp blade against my skin, which would almost feel comfortable, wasn't it for my fear. I am too weak to gesture to Jack to remain silent. I hope I'll be done soon. I hope I'll die soon. Just no more of that pain, please. Make it stop. Please.  
  
I feel Jack's agony. I hear him pant. Don't give in, Jack, not now. We're almost done. But then I begin to think, if I die, will they torture him? Sure they will. My God, is there no way out of this?  
  
They lie me on my back, my head facing Jack. Corr draws an imaginary line following the cheekbone of my left cheek with the point of his knife, but without scratching the flesh. "Speak or he won't be pretty when he wakes up again." The Captain gets down on me, pressing my body to the planks with his weight. His knees rest on my shoulders. The pain of my spoilt flesh being pressed to the wood overpowers my senses. Yet I seem too weak to even pass out. The other men step onto my hands with their feet and hold my legs still. Jack breathes heavily. "Please", I hear him say, "Please stop it."  
  
Corr laughs. "Well the only way you make me stop is when you tell me where the Pearl is to find." "Will you let him go if I tell you?" Jack asks. "Jack, no!" I bring forth from my bruised lips, a weak and coarse sound. Corr laughs even more. "Please, Jack. Don't be naïve. You know I'll kill you both once you're of no more use. We're pirates, after all, ain't we? No need to be romantic about that. The only thing up to you is how easy your passing will be." Jack pants. "Very well. But then we're all pirates, so where is my guarantee you will let him go when I tell you?" he says. "Very good point!" Corr laughs, "I can unfortunately offer no security. I guess you'll have to take my word on that."  
  
Jack grins: "And that, dear Sir, would then only be the word of a pirate. No need to be romantic about that." "You are so very right on that, Mr. Sparrow." "Captain Sparrow. Apart from that, you are not getting a word out of me." Then he remains silent.  
  
"Very well ... . You asked for it." Corr informs. I sense the cold of the blade on my swollen eyelids. The Captain's fingers push them apart. Then I feel the point of the blade, scratching my eye. Something tears apart and there's fluid leaking onto my cheek. The blade goes in deeper. He turns it in my socket. It crunches. The sound is awful. The pain is a burning stab that races through my brain. I hear a shrill cry. I don't know if it is Jack or I screaming. Fortunately I feel my consciousness fade once more. I welcome the numb feeling and embrace the darkness with all my strength. 


End file.
